


In the month of May

by Darkhorse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Centaurs, Courtship, Genderbending, M/M, Mating, Sorry quast, ie one has a mare half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhorse/pseuds/Darkhorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centaurverse for a prompt on Les Mis Kink Meme,</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the month of May

Javert always wondered how non of the town had known, it was so obvious. It might have had something to to do with the fact that centaurs were relatively rare, so to have one in the town, much less two, was so exciting that the people didn't bother to note the differences. Or perhaps it was because their man halves were the same sex, and it was assumed that the horse followed the man. Or perhaps it was because there were no other centaurs about and no true-horse stallions either. Still, there were horse-wise people about, why hadn't they noticed? He didn't know, and he wasn't planning to ask at all. If the mayor wanted no-one else to know, Javert would keep his secret for him.

But he knew, and he thanked the saints he'd arrived at the town in early autumn, had had the whole winter to grow used to the mayor before the days began to warm and lengthen, so he knew in his mind before his body was told.

Javert forced himself to stay still as he gave his report, keeping his hooves in a flat square. All they wanted to do was dance about, prance about, actually. His horse half was keyed up reacting to scents that his enhanced senses were providing it, though his human mind ignored them. He wanted to prove himself to show the mayor that he was worthy. He didn't quite know what it was he wanted to prove himself worthy for, but he knew he would be crushed if he was found wanting. Thankfully he could report in his sleep if required, so his mental exertions could be fully directed to keeping himself still. The mayor nodded as he concluded his report, the same as normal, though his hooves shifted restlessly on the wooden floor as Javert's still longed to. Javert watched the brown, liver chestnut, hide shiver slightly, the tail end weave from side to side, waiting for dismissal, a dismissal he did not want to obey when it would inevitably come.  
“Javert” He looked to the mayor;s face “It is two days past May Day, everything should be tidy again. I think, given the nice weather, it would be nice to walk through town, would you escort me please.”  
He bowed, pulling back one foreleg and making it even more formal than was required “Of course, Monseigneur, it would be my honour.” He backed out of the office and paced out onto the street. Had he been less conspicuous younger and out of uniform, he might have broken into a bucking fit. Instead he settled for doing a rather showy trot down the main street, barely resisting the inclination to look back over his shoulders to see if the mayor was watching.

In the morning sun, standing outside the mayor's house, Javert was certain he was attracting some glances. And rightly so, he'd attacked his horse half with the grooming brushes, even, after half an hour of circling, managed to brush his tail completely clean and tangle free. Oh he made sure he was smart on an average day, but today, he thought his black coat might equal even the gleam of jet. He held a parade stance, arms to his sides and hooves stuck to the ground. He would not embarrass himself by fidgeting, and most certainly not by yawning. The fact he'd smiled himself to sleep, going over and over the mayors words in his head. That use of escort, such a small slip, but still wonderful. And he wouldn't disappoint.

The mayor was punctual, so punctual it seemed that he had wished to catch Javert out and be waiting in a disgruntled fashion when he trotted up. Except of course that Javert was two steps ahead of him, and already there. It was the mayor who seemed wrong-hoofed for a moment, blinking in the sun. But it was only momentary, then he nodded, smiled and walked to Javert's side.  
“Shall we go?”   
Javert let himself prance a little as they went through the town, brushing it off as sheer formality coming out. Inside he was practically preening, if a horse could preen. Here he was, next to the mayor, in people's eyes paired like a set of carriage horses. Propriety denied bucking, again, but he would have if it hadn't. Instead, he picked his feet up higher, lifting his head proudly. He was of course on duty, and it wouldn't do to be seen acting shoddily on duty.

By the time, however they had found the road out of town and cantered for a little while Javert found duty was slipping form his mind. He let himself drop back slightly, apparently letting the mayor lead, but he found that the other centaur responded to the slightest body movement, even when he was apparently out of sight. Distantly he remembered seeing a heard of white horses, way out on a marsh. The stallion of that band had dropped his head, snakeish, driving his mares like a sheepdog with the flock. Aside from dropping his head, which would look silly in anything but a true horse, he was doing exactly the same. His human mind screamed insubordination, but the mayor seemed perfectly aware of what was going on, and not overly bothered, so he ignored it, subtly directing the other centaur off the road, to a small glade he'd found on his outer wanderings during the winter.

It was even more beautiful than he remembered, the harshness of icy grey trees giving way to the very first marks of spring on their boughs, the grass starting to re-grow under their hooves. Even in the winter it had been out of the wind, old bushes clustering too close to let much in. By high summer, it would be as hidden as hidden. And for now, it was more than private enough.   
This time his feet would not freeze while he thought, and he found himself doing a high trot around the edge of the glade, stretching his strides, undoubtedly showing off. The mayor turned away, and he wheeled, lifting his front feet off the ground to turn so sharply, and placed himself back in view. The mayor made to turn away, but Javert knew he was begin watched, drawing himself up to his full 17 hands of height at the withers, and more when his human torso was counted. 

It was like a dance, he turned one way, the mayor went the other. Each watching, waiting. And slowly, Javert stepped his way closer. He was careful, he knew that the mayor would kick out with no digression if he went to fast with this, any would, even true-humans slapped. But the mayor simply watched him, moving only to keep his face directed to Javert, hooves muffled by the grass. Finally Javert reached out a hand, touching the mayor's forearm, sliding down so their hands lay together as he looked directly into the mayor's eyes.

The mayor blinked, and, hoof by hoof, Javert moved closer, running his hand down onto the dark chestnut coat, palm flat. The mayor took a deep breath, let it out, Javert felt his side heave under his hand. His hand moved back, reaching back to the mayor's arm, pressing his hand briefly, then running a long stroke down the horse side, once, twice, each time he stepped a little further along. The mayor was breathing faster, huffing it horse fashion through his nose.  
Javert clenched his teeth and his lips tight as the chestnut tail began to swish, human mentality, not horse would rule here. Before he touched the rump, he pulled his hand away. He would not be forward, no matter how hot his blood was running, screaming at him that he was a fully grown stallion, not a young colt, confused by his feelings. Hating himself, he put his hand back from where he'd just removed it, slid it up until his palm rested on the mayor's spine, and pressed, firmly. The other centaur braced the weight without even shifting, tail lifting slightly in what Javert knew was as much plea as invitation.  
“Don't tease...Don't.”  
He shuddered, the tone of the mayor's voice made every nerve quiver at once, his blood flashing hot to his groin. He swallowed, stepping back, moving away. The mayor stamped a hoof, shooting him a look that for all its annoyed forefront, could only be coquettish in meaning. He moved around and little more, stepping as close as he could without being switched by the chestnut tail.

It wasn't as gentle as he'd hoped to make it, his front horse-half landing with something of a thump on the mayor's back. But the gasp he heard, as the lust took him, wasn't pain, but shear pleasure.  
The thrusts were rough, and even as his body controlled them he found himself gripping the mayor's shoulders to keep his balance. When the mayor finally flings his head back with a gasp, Javert lets his muscled relax, just resting, breathing air back into his lungs, unclenching the spasms of release which had gripped even his human half. Then slowly, he made his rear legs back away, and lifted himself back onto four hooves rather than two.

He didn't feel so proud, so showy now. Now his blood was cooling, he began to wonder what on earth he'd done. He hung his head, sloping home like a misbehaving colt, incapable of looking the mayor in the eye.

Eleven months later, when a little bay filly was charming everyone in town, without even being able to say a word, his head went up again, and his eyes glowed wit horse and human feeling. He was a herd stallion now... and a father.

**Author's Note:**

> This is Javert's horse half (minus the white bits)  
> http://static.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/612845-bigthumbnail.jpg
> 
> Valjean is probably a liver chestnut Trait du Nord


End file.
